


Alexander That Never Thinks

by Hamino (frechi123)



Series: Hamilsquad in the Rough: Up Close and Personal [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Coma (by the end), Gen, Not at alll, These are never happy, They are in 7th grade now, Washington is not goooooood in this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-08-29 05:26:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16737958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frechi123/pseuds/Hamino
Summary: If you were to ask Alexander James Hamilton exactly how well his life was going, he would do everything in his power to keep himself from ranting about it, then try to turn yours around.He will do anything to make sure his friends stay happy, especially the newest one he met last year.Even if he may never wake up from this nightmare.





	1. My Mother in the Stars

**Author's Note:**

> These stories do get happier, but for now they start off sad.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He said, you came along and you tore apart _my_ family, and for what, to make _yours_ whole again? Get away from me, there's nothing you can do.
> 
> I was this close to trying to hang  _myself_ up there, so Peter couldn't see how much that hurt."

My dad once said my mom hung the stars.

My mom always said I hung the stars.

I wasn't sure what to do when Peter tried to hang himself and float among them, so he would feel that as if he literally hung in them.

I wanted to comfort him, I really did.

But he wouldn't accept me. He said, you came along and you tore apart _my_ family, and for what, to make _yours_ whole again? Get away from me, there's nothing you can do.

I was this close to trying to hang  _myself_ up there, so Peter couldn't see how much that hurt.

I would make every excuse to get out of the house, climb to the balcony. Just so I wouldn't have to look at him.

People flocked in and out. Most of them were my age.

Most of them were going to end it all, right there.

I cried out, don't do it! Why are you throwing your lives away? Forever I would be there, talking people out of their follies, turning their lives around, no more thinking they weren't enough.

Hypocritical of me, I know.

My friends were the only ones who talked me out of my stubborn stupor. They said, last year, come on - there's a kid. He doesn't want to stick around, you have to get him out.

What? How do you know that  _I'll_ be able to save him from this?

They took my hands. 

You saved all of _us_ , didn't you?

And I knew what I had to do.


	2. My Cousin in the Rope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I ask what you were doing and you say no way, why would I tell you, you're just going to make a show out of it, and I don't have that kind of time."

I'm not sure why I'm bothering you with my crush on Aaron again. You already made it clear you did not care and that you were certain that I am going insane anyway. 

I roll my eyes. I know he likes me, and I like him just fine. And you know nothing about romance anyway.

You're acting way more off than usual.

Mom can't get you to say much more at dinner at all. You're not even encouraging Dad who usually shoots dirty looks at me from across the table.

Oh yes, please remind me that I'm a bastard, and that this apparently isn't half your fault, Dad. I love when he shatters what's left of my self-esteem. 

He should have died that day. Not your father. Maybe then you wouldn't have to hate me anymore.

You wouldn't have done what you did today. And I wouldn't have felt so guilty, so responsible.

I ask what you are doing and you say no way, why would I tell you, you're just going to make a show out of it, and I don't have that kind of time.

The rope hangs loosely there on the balcony as you stood atop the railing, looking to the world outside that you would never get to know, now.

I call you insane. Off your rocker. You wanted to turn back around and yell at me but you slip and nearly go over the railing until I grab you by your hand. You growl at me at attempts to bite me.

Why are you doing this?! I cry out. Why are you wasting your one shot at life like this?!

You turn back to me. Because I want to be up there, with him, I don't want him to be alone anymore, he didn't deserve to die!

I shake my head. You are right, he didn't. And you will join him someday. But don't make today that day. Don't let your chances slip away so soon.

You sigh. You don't get it, Alexander. I have another reason for wanting to get away right now. Maybe you, too, will see it.

I gasp. You hate calling me by name. 

You whisper to me, good luck with them.

And you bite me on the hand, causing my grip to jump from your hand to the rope almost immediately tightening it. I let go in horror. I look over.

There you are. My cousin, that hangs by the rope, on display for the whole neighborhood to see.

I'm so sorry.


	3. My Teacher in the Wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I used to think this mountain of a man we called our teacher... could do no wrong, Aaron. That he was God in a sense, and I looked up to him.
> 
> But he kept me behind after his class let out one night, one year ago, on the same day as when Peter's death would soon be.
> 
> One night that shattered my naive reality."

Washington is a good teacher.

Washington  _was_ a good teacher.

Remember when I used to pester you guys about him last year, wondering when were we going to get to hear his expertise; you all always said the same thing: next year, next year, like all the other 7th graders.

And when we finally got assigned to him, last period of the day, you and Eliza and John and Maria were in my class, I know you were all expecting me to cheer and maybe write a paper about happy I was supposed to be.

That's how it used to be.

But all I see there now is a nightmare.

You see, there's something that I didn't tell you guys. You found out what he was doing to me, but I never told you how long it actually went on. I only told you when it exactly started, two weeks after we started classes with him, but it stemmed back a bit further with the baiting.

I used to think this mountain of a man we called our teacher... could do no wrong, Aaron. That he was God in a sense, and I looked up to him.

But he kept me behind after his class let out one night, one year ago, on the same day as when Peter's death would soon be.

One night that shattered my naive reality.

Yes, Aaron, this was before I met you, around the time some of the others were planning to end it all.

I shouldn't have tried to stop them. I should have tried to go with them.

Then maybe Washington wouldn't yank my hair like it owed him money or neglect poor Martha at home. How did he think seeking someone who never wanted to be thinking about this stuff so early would satiate him?!

Don't worry, my dear, I've been through worse.

Don't worry, please.


	4. My Father in the Jail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "They killed him. 
> 
> Something got him while he was rotting away.
> 
> I didn't know what to feel about this."

Sigh. What else to say?

Apparently my  _dear darling dad_ took it upon himself to get arrested. Fucking arrested, like, are you kidding me?! My father has done realllllly stupid things in his lifetime, but even my half-brother James (bless his tainted soul, he escaped while he could) would have deemed this a biiiiig blunder.

My mom, Peter's aunt, is a ghost of her former self. She wanders about looking lost and Lafayette once said that she looked like she needed some kind of GPS for life, to show her what to do now.

I told him it would not last with the way she was acting.

Every time I would go to see him, I would come back crying, or silently with finger marks round my neck. Either he'd yell while I ducked into my safe corner so he couldn't see me, grab me, hurt me, or I'd be late and fighting for my life at that point.

_Good luck with them._

You told me that, Peter, right before you died. So that's what my parents did to you? Why did you act like you were on their side? Did you defect? Were you faking? I would never know.

Angelica calls me, when my mom has finished screaming for a good two minutes straight before shambling out of sight. She says, someone's shooting up the jail! Three of the prisoners were targeted and killed down there...

I leave her on the line, pulling on my shoes and rushing over to the jail.

They killed him.

Something got him while he was rotting away.

I didn't know what to feel about this. The only thing I know is Dad was doing something illegal.

And I had only one way of getting answers.


	5. My Friend in the Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We'll both know what we know, Alex, you say.
> 
> Yes, I know, I sigh back at him."

You're sitting in your treehouse of mystery again.

No one knows what's up there, no one else. Not even us. You always tell us that what all is contained up there could ruin us all forever, make you look at life much worse than now.

Even worse than how unfortunate we are right now? Yikes. Perhaps you're doing us all a favor. 

I see you jump out the carved out hole that is the window, flipping onto the ground before walking over to me with some sort of dossier. I'm almost afraid to look.

We'll both know what we know, Alex, you say. Yes, I know, I sigh back at him.

Arson. Drug dealing. A whole lotta dough piling up over and over and over and again and again, and I wonder how on earth he was doing any of this if he played the role of "Deadbeat Dad" so well every time me, Peter, or James walked into a room.

I shake my head. What kind of world are we living in? I say.

The unfortunate, unlucky, unforgiving kind, Charles says. Oh, yikes, the sisters are expecting me over to say some words at Ren and Corny's graves. Want to come?

I shrug a why not and follow after him. The walk is long but neither of us minds because we can get lost in our thoughts of fantasy of how we are loved by our families or not acosted by guilt of losing them or teased relentlessly by the goons at school on the way.

We get there and the sisters look cheerless. Peggy is all decked in white and against the brightness of today she could have disappeared. Angelica wears all black, to match her brooding, blameful mood. She always blames herself, not even her older brother, who still lives. Eliza is gray, the mediator, the middlewoman that keeps these two from falling apart, at least when she is herself.

I feel guilt for wearing such bright colors on an occassion like this. You reassure me that I was not aware I was coming here and could not be faulted for it.

They do not fault me. They thank me instead, their siblings would have wanted a bright ray to shine down on them.

It's suddenly overcast over the place, but a beam breaks out and shines on us anyway.

Are they watching us?


	6. My Brother in the Half-Sense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He ruined my life. He wrecked a lot of things, he told lies, he turned my old friends, Peter's friends, against me.
> 
> They turned my arm into what it is now, unable to feel pain.
> 
> He ruins my life.
> 
> Even when he is no longer here."

Have you noticed that my brother James is scarcely mentioned at all?

Seriously. I have only said his name twice. And he's only half my brother anyways.

He ruined my life.

He wrecked a lot of things, he told lies, he turned my old friends, Peter's friends, against me.

They turned my arm into what it is now, unable to feel pain.

He ruins my life.

Even when he is no longer here.

Little did I know what he will do to me... he takes after them.

***

I'm out in the Square, just sitting amidst Bench Alley, when I see you, Charles, and Theo approaching. 

Your face has a long scar across it that wasn't there before. My eyes widen in terror, an all too familiar feeling wafting about me, and yet I still ask who has done this to you when I know who did it. 

You shrug, shuddering, and tell me that you don't know. It makes sense since you were hardly allowed out when he was still here terrorizing us all. Theo knows not either because she moved here only a year ago, and he disappeared way before then.

Charles knows. He always knows. He points at me. Your brother did this, didn't he.

A statement. Not a question. I nod. I don't know why he's back, honest. If I knew I would have never let this happen.

Your brother? Your and Theo's voices carry surprise and much of it. Why haven't we heard of him?

Because he disappeared, I say, he walked out on me, on Mom, Dad and Peter, even my uncle and aunt who almost didn't know he existed before we got here. James - not Madison, my brother - is the reason my arm is like this, I point at it then, and am silently thankful that they never judged me for it. Everyone, everyone our age disliked him except for one - we don't talk about him much. He was a part of us once, or tried, but he turned on us all. And he is only half my brother anyway.

How did _you_ know it was him that did this? you ask him.

Because I gave him that exact same scar.

We all turn and he's there, standing mean, not-so-lean, and tall. Freakishly tall. He could give some of our runty trees a run for their bark.

You're back, I state. Why?

He cracks his knuckles. I have unfinished business with you. You're not done paying for ruining my life!

I stare at him like he grew ten eyes.  _Me?_ Ruin  _your_ life? You are the one that let those savages cut my arm off! It took  _months_ to adjust to this thing! I flap it around to prove my point. You terrorized all my new friends, you turned my old ones against me, so  _please_ explain what I did that is somehow worse!

You  _exist_ , he yells, suddenly charging at me, not enough time to react as he slams me onto the cold hard ground, even though the day is as warm as it can be.

 _Punch!_ They stopped paying me any mind. It was all about you and Peter.

 _Wham!_ No more coasting on. I had to work to stay relevant.

 _Slap!_ You turned once loving people into monsters!

_BOOM!_

 

 

 

And then it was still. I heard nothing. I saw nothing. I knew nothing.

And I wouldn't wake up.


	7. Me in the Mask

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is based on [We Wear the Mask](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44203/we-wear-the-mask) by Paul Laurence Dunbar.

_I forever wear the mask that grins and lies._  
_I've hidden my teary cheeks, my bloodshot eyes_ —

My mom is there.

She's standing there. Not moving. Dead. Yet alive.

James appears a bit later. He falls at her knees and screams, begs her to see him again —

He turns and sees me, a bad sign.

He runs at me... And I scream in an eerily, bloodcurdling, silent sort of way.

 _A debt_   _I_   _once_ _paid, I've fallen to the abyss_

Peter is there now.

He looks at me with a resigned look. Sympathy. Pity. All rolled in one.

I want to tell him so badly that I'm sorry.

He surprises me instead.

That  _he_ is the one that is sorry. That he killed himself so James wouldn't do it first, not my parents.

A warning all along that I read all wrong.

 _As_   _I_   _try and push through suffocating mist_  
_Through_   _a_   _myriad about questions of life_

Jefferson is there.

No one ever forgave him for what he did to us.

Not John for his chasing Francis away...

Not you for joining the teasing...

Not Charles after he blackmailed countless with his book...

Not Maria after he spread a vile rumor that got her hurt...

Not Laf or Herc after smoking them out of house and home...

Not me when he left me to fend for myself in a cave during a storm..,

Not Sam for getting him acquainted with you-know-who...

Not Theo after misgendering her so blatantly...

 

Not Angelica, Eliza, or Peggy, after he caused little Phillip's death...

 _Why should the world be over-wise,_  
_In counting all my tears and sighs?_  
_Nay, let them only see me, while_  
_I wear the mask._

My friends are all there.

They stand crying, reaching out to me.

To a darkness that hears no happiness, to a place where everything is out of reach for me.

 _I've smiled, but alas, our cries_  
_Implore our tortured souls to arise._  
_We sing, but oh, we remain mute,_  
_To the world, and others follow suit;_

 

You come alone.

By yourself.

Perhaps I'll never get to tell the real you that I love you.

So is this mockery or comfort?

Aaron, my love, take your time, get out there.

I'll come back for you someday.

_But let the world render us moot,  
As we wear the mask!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Alexander's story.
> 
> Thank you for reading.


End file.
